Breathe Symphonies:  A Dash of Lemon
by TriplePirouette
Summary: Jolie brings her husband breakfast. Intended to be fluff, but a little angsty.


**Breathe Symphonies: A Dash of Lemon**

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Summary: Jolie brings her husband breakfast. Intended to be fluff, but a little angsty.

Feedback PLEASE at: triplepirouettephile (at) hotmail (dot) com Or just hit the little button there.

AN:I opened my ask box on Tumblr to prompts for getting over 25 followers. From schmoo999: Rumbelle and blueberry muffins. Sorry- this is becoming Breathe Symphonies almost-fluff. Can't help it, it fits in the universe.

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><p>The bell on the Pawn Shop door tolls lightly, alerting Gold, all the way in the back room, that someone needs attending to. He stands slowly, pasting a smile on his face.<p>

"Sit back down." Belle's voice drifts through to him, just a little louder than normal. "I think I know my way by now." She steps into the doorway, leaning on the jamb with a small smile on her face. "You were out of the house before I woke up."

He leans back in his chair, happy to see her, but still full of the burden of this morning. "Lots to do."

She chuckles and saunters in, placing the white bakery box and a travel mug from their cabinet at home in front of him on his desk. "Yes, that's why you're sitting back here staring at a newspaper from two days ago." She sighs and rounds the large desk, sitting on the edge of it and facing him. "Still won't tell me?"

He looks at her frown, at the dulled sparkle in her eye, and knows that there is no way he can tell her yet. The underhanded deals, the double crosses that he's making right now to assure that Emma must give up her child: it's too much to bare, never mind share. "No." He drifts a hand up to sit on her capri covered knee.

Her eyes study his face for a moment, but she doesn't press. "Well, you left without breakfast this morning."

He turns his head, but doesn't move his hand. "Belle..."

She leans over and puts a finger across his lips. "No nonsense about you not being hungry when you're this busy. You're practically skin and bones as it is, I'll be getting paper cuts soon if you lose any more weight."

His eyes soften and he kisses her finger. "Can't be having that."

Belle shakes her head and passes over the travel mug. "Tea, no milk, two sugars, a dash of lemon." He sips it appreciatively and leans over as she open the bakery box but he can't see what's inside. "Open up," she says, pulling a bit of some kind of cake out between her forefinger and thumb.

He puts the tea down and sighs in frustration. "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."

She kisses his cheek and hold the morsel of what he can now identify as blueberry muffin in front of his lips. "Capable, yes. Willing, no." He doesn't eat it and she sighs, resting her elbows on her knees. "Rum, love, you've got me worried. You're not home anymore, you're not eating, you won't tell me what's going on... are... is it me?"

He stands, lifting her hands into one of his and tipping her chin up with a finger. "It's not you. There's... there's a lot to tell, and I'm not quite ready to burden you with it. It's a move against Regina. A big one." He brings her hands up, kissing her knuckles. "I need to know that this will work. A few more days, then I'll be able to tell you at least what the plan is. For now..." He leans down, letting his tongue flick over her fingers and taking the tidbit of muffin from them, chewing and quickly swallowing. "I suppose a bit of breakfast couldn't hurt."

Belle reaches over, pulls out another bit of muffin and holds it up to his lips. He takes it gently from her fingers and smiles at her as he chews. Without a word he takes the box off the desk and sits next to her, reaching in and plucking off a piece to feed to her. She teases his finger with her tongue, but takes the muffin between her teeth without too much preamble. As she chews her eyes go wide. "Oh, that is good." She leans over to take her own piece, but he pulls the box away. "Hey!"

"I do believe you brought this for me," he says, wrapping his tongue hard around the consonants in a way that reminds her of his former self.

She smiles widely, her voice dipping low. "Could you be...persuaded to share?"

His tongue rolls over the letters with nearly a purr, "Perhaps, for a price, dearie." He leans forward, his lips poised to cover her own. He's so close he can smell the sweetness on her breath.

They're barely millimeters apart when the front door's bell rings out again. He sighs and starts to move, but she presses a hand to his shoulder. "Eat your muffin, drink your tea, take a minute to yourself." She kisses his lips softly but swiftly. "I can take care of one customer, and if I need you I know where to find you."

Belle hops off the desk, straightening her clothes and turning to leave the office when he stops her. "Jolie?"

She turns, smiling at how he says her Storybrooke name, a hand on the door jamb. "Yes?"

His eyes shine, his voice sincere. "What would I do without you?"

There is so much to say on this particular subject. So many words they've already shared about the months they lived alone before the curse. She decides not to contribute to his maudlin state of mind and makes a joke instead. "You'd be talking to-" she strains her neck and waves when she sees who is in the shop, "Archie and minus a blueberry muffin." Belle winks at him before she slips out of the back and into the shop proper.

He looks into the box on his lap, the enormous muffin with pickings taken out of it's top sitting there just waiting to be eaten. He reaches out and lifts the mug to his lips, drinking his tea as he listens to her chirp brightly in conversation with the psychologist. He will save her some of the muffin. Gods knew she saved him often enough, even if it was almost always from himself.


End file.
